


line without a hook

by eg1701



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Mr. Hirsch's A+ Parenting, Self-Doubt, greg's dad doesn't have the a+ parenting tag but!, lotta old man jokes directed at tom, there is no way they would ever communicate this much in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27685639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eg1701/pseuds/eg1701
Summary: Greg hides out in the bathroom after some harsh words from his father, and Tom comes looking for him.
Relationships: Greg Hirsch/Tom Wambsgans
Comments: 17
Kudos: 42





	line without a hook

**Author's Note:**

> i am once again basing greg's dad's entire personality off literally one line in season one. i know nothing about the man. he could be dead. he could be a star father. i just wanted to make greg angst because i always make tom angst. sorry buddy.
> 
> title from the ricky montgomery song of the same name

“You are a hard man to find,” Tom said, nudging Greg with the toe of his shoe, “Your mom said she saw you come this way. You alright?”

Greg looked up-- he didn’t often have to look up at people, but since he’d somehow ended up on the bathroom floor, and Tom was still standing, now was one of those times. He didn’t respond. Tom frowned.

“Kind of a dumb question wasn’t it,” Tom chuckled, “Given everything.”

“Yeah,” Greg pinched the bridge of his nose. He was _not_ going to cry in front of Tom. He could get away with a lot, now that they were… a _thing,_ but if Tom was going to make fun of him for crying, he wasn’t sure he could handle it.

Tom pushed the bathroom door shut, and sat down, just across from him, back against the sink, groaning as he did.

“Getting old,” Greg muttered.

“Fuck off.”

This was the bathroom that had always been Greg’s when he had stayed with his grandfather as a kid. Sometimes, when his parents fought, or his grandfather was in a particular mood, he’d sneak away and hide out here, just to get away for a bit. It was the farthest removed from the kitchen and living rooms, which meant it was fairly quiet all day long, but that it also got awfully drafty at times. It was large-- bigger than his bathroom back home in Manhattan, and the cool porcelain of the bathtub pressing against his back was about the only thing he could really feel right now. He’d tried to douse himself in cold water when he first slipped away, but it had only made him colder, and he promptly gave up and settled on the ground.

“You know you don’t have to like, come babysit me,” Greg said, “I’m fine.”

“Your dad is a dick,” Tom replied, “Can I say that?”

Greg shrugged, “It’s true.”

“I don’t think he cares much for me.”

“He doesn’t like me either if that makes you feel any better,” Greg replied. He wished he’d snagged a bottle of wine or something on his way up, but the idea of sitting alone in the bathroom drinking wine out of a bottle was too pathetic even for him. What if Tom had walked in on _that?_

“Ah come on,” Tom said, “What’s not to like?

Greg smiled half heartedly, “You’re like, incredibly ill timed in your flirting.”

Tom leaned forward and took one of his hands and held it wordlessly. Greg wondered if his mother had sent Tom here on purpose, if she’d known he would be hiding, and had sent him instead of finding himself. Greg got the impression that Marianne was telling the truth when she said she liked Tom. It’s likely she would have made it known otherwise.

“You like it when I flirt with you,” Tom smirked, “Don’t you?”

“Yeah but-”

“Greg, honey,” Tom paused for half a second, as if testing the word. He had never called Greg anything even _remotely_ resembling a term of endearment. Greg knew that there was love and affection behind every nasty name, and he’d come to like them, but there was another level to an actual sweet nickname like that, “Your dad’s not a good person. Am I allowed to say that?”

“Yes,” Greg nodded, “You never call me stuff like that Tom.”

“You’re deflecting. Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

“And even though you’re one anxious motherfucker and you’re a scrappy little urchin, and you’re squirelly as hell, I don’t know what I would do without you so Greg, _fuck_ him.”

“You would be fine without me,” Greg said firmly. He meant every word, “You _were_ fine without me.”

“I was not _fine,_ ” Tom argued, “Why would you even fucking say that?”

“No but like,” Greg sat up straighter, raised his voice just a bit, “You were because like, you had a good job, and a nice place, and Shiv and everything. You were fine.”

“Fine doesn’t mean happy,” Tom said.

“I don’t believe that.”

Tom sighed, “From what you’ve told me, from what I’ve heard, I don’t know why you would even want your father’s approval in the first place.”

“You know why. You want approval too Tom, you always fucking have.”

Tom frowned, “Because he’s your dad. Because he’s _family._ ” 

“And like, it’s fine because he treated my mom bad and it was a scandal and everybody and their fucking mother knows about it, but I don’t know. I guess it would be nice if he could like, tell me once he thought I turned out alright. That I’m not a fuck up.”

“You are not a fuck up,” Tom said, “Look, you _fucked_ up but that doesn’t make you a _fuck_ up.”

“Don’t you care that he doesn’t like you?”

“I could not give a single damn about his opinions Greg. I’m tired of trying to impress people.”

Greg thought that was a lot of development for Tom, who had craved nothing more than Logan’s approval, and wanted to be treated like a member of the family. Maybe it was good that he didn’t care so much anymore. That he could just be happy with what they had. He knew that it was likely that Logan and Waystar were always going to loom over their lives, but Greg thought he’d be alright with that, so long as they were content with everything else.

“And look,” Tom shook his head, “I’m sorry alright? It’s shit. I don’t even know why he came here.”

Greg shrugged, “Probably to piss Grandpa off. They always butted heads. Even before… everything. He said Mom wasn’t worthy of him. I guess he was right. It’s tough.”

“It is.”

“And like I don’t really need his approval in my life, but I’m so scared that one of these days you’re gonna see that I’m the fuck up he thinks I am. That you’ll see I’ve been fucking, faking it all this time. I scammed my way into that fucking job Tom, you know it. Everything has been sheer luck. Maybe I don’t deserve any of this.”

Greg liked to think he was a fairly optimistic person. Sure, he’d had a rough time, but he liked to think he’d done alright for himself. But the disappointment in his father’s voice, the look in his eyes that hadn’t changed in all the years, had been there when Greg was a kid with a bad grade or some little mistake made him feel like he’d done _nothing_ right ever in his entire life and he’d just been too fucking stupid to see it. 

He couldn’t read Tom’s face exactly. It wasn’t quite pity, not quite sadness. Some strange mixture of several emotions at the same time.

“I don’t need his approval Tom, but I need you to tell me that you still love me.”

“Oh honey,” Tom shook his head. Twice in one conversation. Greg wondered vaguely what the record would be, “Of course I love you.”

“I just,” Greg pressed his palms against his eyes. He still refused to cry. Tom had never seen him cry, and that was not going to start now. They were in love, sure, but there were some things you just couldn't let your former boss turned significant other see, “I don’t know. I feel like I don’t like, deserve this. I mean, Shiv’s my fucking _cousin._ Like I let you cheat on her with me. How does that make me any better than him? How do I not be that?”

“It was wrong of us,” Tom said, eyebrows furrowed, “To keep it from her as long as we did. Sure it was. But it is _not_ the same thing.”

“He literally said it was the same thing--”

Tom pried his hands away, held them tight so he couldn’t do it again, “It’s _not._ And you know why? Because you are a good person.”

Greg laughed, “I don’t know about that like, I think I’m alright.”

“You have had bad things happen to you. You did what you had to do. Are you listening? They will never understand. Shiv, the others. They will never understand that. Whatever you did, whoever you sucked up to-- myself included-- was what you had to do. We all got more than we bargained for Greg, but I’ll be damned if you come out of this thinking _you’re_ the bad person.”

“I sometimes just wish it could go back to normal. That I’d never fucking come to New York,” Greg siad quietly, “But I don’t want to lose you Tom. I don’t know what I would do without you. Sometimes I think you’re the only person besides my mom who genuinely likes being around me.”

“And you tell me that _I’m_ self deprecating?” 

“You are,” Greg smiled. 

“Come here,” Tom said, “This is fucking disgusting here on the bathroom floor, but come here.”

Greg pushed himself forward, off the bathtub and into Tom, his face pressed against Tom’s shoulder. His sweater was soft against his cheek, and he could feel the rise and fall of Tom’s breathing. All in all, it was the nicest thing he’d felt all day.

“You can’t listen to anybody Greg. People like that, they don’t care about your feelings, about anything but themselves. I know because I also mostly only care about myself.”

He knew it was sort of a joke, but he also knew that it was also Tom being uncharacteristically self aware. Greg didn’t know if it was good, exactly, but it was probably better to be self aware than not. 

Greg chuckled. He felt Tom brush a hand through his hair, “Not true.”

“I said _mostly_ because you fucking wormed your way into all this and along the way you made me have honest to God _feelings_ for you.”

“Yeah.”

“You have a fucking screwed up family Greg. I think the Roys might be cursed honestly. You got the short end of the stick because your Hirsch side is screwed up too.”

“He’s gonna bitch,” Greg muttered, “When I go back downstairs. Gonna say I’m being a kid by running and hiding instead of facing it.”

“Maybe he left?”

“No. He must be a fucking sadist or something because he always fucking comes to these things and makes everybody miserable.”

“Doesn’t it upset your mom?”

Greg shook his head, “he has to either be nice to her or avoid her. He’s too scared of my grandfather. I think they both need to just fucking forget it but Mom would never listen when I told her that so I finally stopped saying it. I guess it’s just the family drama. He shows up, we ignore him. Grandpa eventually shouts at him, and then he leaves.”

“Let him say shit Greg, it doesn’t matter.”

“Can’t we just stay here?”

“I’m not sitting on this bathroom floor. It’s cold as hell in here, and this hurts my back.”

“That’s because your an old man,” Greg said.

“That seemed to be a favorite of your dad’s. I’m too _old_ for you.”

“He couldn’t figure out much else to say,” Greg sat up. He wanted to go to bed, wanted to go out into the cool air, wanted to be far away from here, “I don’t know. I didn’t like all those comments, about how I can’t take care of myself. That I have to _rely_ on you.”

“You sure laid into him though,” Tom shook his head, “What did he say I was the first time? A stuttering embarrassment of a social climber? I think it was that. Frankly, I think he and Logan would probably get along better than he and Ewan.”

“He’s an asshole. Grandpa used to call him a social climber so, like, he’s not even original. He’s just excited to be able to use it on someone else I guess.”

“Didn’t he say I was a creep too? Bold words coming from a man who doesn’t appear to care very much about what his son-- his adult son-- does. Good thing he doesn’t know I used to be your boss. He might have called the police.”

“He couldn’t think of anything else. He just runs his mouth. I do it too, only he’s meaner.”

“I thought that adulterer was the funniest though. Takes one to know one huh? How’d he even find that out?”

“Word gets around.”

“I suppose so.”

“He doesn’t get to say _shit_ about you,” Greg pressed down a fresh wave of anger. The argument with his father had been a bit of a blur, before he stormed upstairs. His father had had something to say about every person Greg had shown the _slightest_ interest in, but he only really cared about defending Tom. Every word made Greg see red, and finally he had snapped and politely (at least he thought it was polite) told his father to fuck off and he could very well leave Tom’s name out of his mouth because at least Tom gave a shit about him.

“I’ve been called worse by better men.”

“He had no right.”

“I’ve never had anybody defend me like that,” Tom said, nodding approvingly, “It was very attractive.”

“You’re _so_ fucked up Tom.”

“I thought you were going to throw your drink at him.”

“If there weren’t, like, other guests, I might have taken a leaf out of your book and done it. Would you have thought that was hot too?”

“Oh definitely,” Tom tucked a strand of Greg’s hair behind his ear fondly, “In fact, we probably would have had to go upstairs then and there. You’re not ever _assertive_ Greg.”

“It’s just about myself,” Greg said after a moment, “I don’t care so much like, what people say about me. But I guess I don’t want to hear it about you. Like, I get to call you an asshole but nobody else does.”

“My hero,” Tom rolled his eyes, “I’m serious, my back is fucked from sitting here. Can we go now? Or do you need to _angst_ about it some more.”

“Nah,” Greg pushed himself off the floor and offered a hand to Tom to pull him out, “I want dinner and I don’t think, like, I want to eat it on the bathroom floor. Thanks.”

“For what?” Tom rolled his shoulders.

“For coming to find me.”

“Yeah well,” Tom pulled Greg by his belt loop and kissed him, “You don’t need to wallow in self pity. Besides, your mom said I’d be best for the job. Told me she thought you might be up here when I asked where you’d disappeared to. Did you used to hide in the bathroom Gregory? Little Greg hiding out here. It’s hard to imagine you as a kid. If I hadn’t seen the photos I might have thought you just sprung up one day fully formed.”

“She likes you,” Greg said. He said it all the time, mostly because he liked saying it, and he thought Tom liked hearing it. 

“I’m very likeable,” Tom said, nodding like he’d just made some deeply thoughtful point, “Of course she likes me. She was afraid she’d never find somebody who’d put up with your peculiarities. That’s what it is.”

“Yeah right,” Greg chuckled, “I mean, you’re no fucking picnic Tom.”

“Here I am being nice to you and what does it get me? Come on dipshit. Let’s go huh? I need a drink or ten. Want one?”

“God yes.”

“Come here first,” Tom said firmly. He brushed a thumb across Greg’s cheek, “I love you.”

“Yeah I uh,” Greg smiled, “I love you too.”

“Alright. Into the lion’s den,” Tom turned to go, pulling Greg along as he went.

“Just a couple more minutes?” Greg said, “Just like, two more minutes. Please?”

Tom rolled his eyes again but came back and wrapped his arms around Greg, “Two minutes.”

That would be enough. Greg smiled when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. He wished, very briefly, that he could have told the Greg that had hidden in the bathroom a hundred times as a kid that one of these days, somebody was going to come looking for him.

There was a lot he wanted to tell that Greg. Mostly that it would be alright eventually. That it would suck for a long, long time, but then it would be alright. 

“Come on now,” Tom pulled away gently, “Just stick with me huh? I always tell you that I’ll look after you. I am now extending that to include your dick father.”

“Thanks.”

Greg thought that maybe Tom was right. He couldn’t be a _bad_ person because bad people weren’t supposed to get the happy endings. Bad people didn’t have someone come hunt them down when they disappeared, didn’t have someone hold them tight in the fucking _bathroom_ of all places, didn’t get to be loved like this.

“We can go now,” Greg said firmly, “Time to be brave.”

“Attaboy,” Tom clapped him on the shoulder, “Chin up.”

Tom pulled th door open and held it for Greg.

“Besides,” he said with a smirk, “He doesn’t have to come to the wedding.”

“Yeah,” Greg chuckled then frowned, “Wait. What wedding?”

“Come on Greg,” Tom laughed, like he knew something Greg didn’t and maybe he did. Greg had to half jog to keep up with him down the hallway, “We’ll be late for dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you as always!


End file.
